my baby (i'll look after you)
by loved in shades of wrong
Summary: A series of unrelated ficlets about them taking care of each other. #11: Labour.
1. nightmares

**quisinart4, you wonderful beta. Thank you as always.**

**So because I've finished uni for the year, I plan on writing more. With the break coming up it means that I'll be going into Olicity withdrawal. Writing can fix that for me. Hopefully reading these short one-shots will for you :)**

_nightmares_

Felicity is a light sleeper. When she was eight, she was so excited to have her very first sleepover at her best friend Molly Tucker's house she wore her favourite jammies (TMNT - she had an acute obsession with Donnie). Turns out, Molly was a snorer. When 12:30AM came around she cried out of exhaustion and frustration. Mrs. Tucker had to call her parents to come and take her home.

When she was seventeen, she was awoken by a dull thumping. Scared, she thought someone was breaking in and murdering her parents. When a familiar voice moaned out, "Oh yeaah," she was mortified to learn her parents were having sex. (She couldn't look them in the eye for weeks.) During college, she had a roommate who was a heavy sleeper and liked to mumble in her sleep. She bought earplugs and started wearing them to bed.

The first time Oliver sleeps over at her apartment, Felicity finds herself disoriented and concerned when she's jolted awake by his arm hitting her in his roll into another position. Carefully placing his arm beside him, she watches his face for any sign of consciousness, and becomes startled when a frown darkens his features. She carefully runs her fingers along his cheek in an attempt to soothe him, when his fists start clenching and his whole body goes rigid before his eyes fly open. She pulls away when his gaze lands on hers, but it's not soft and happy like it usually is, but dark and furious; his beautiful blues tainted by black specs.

He blinks and then his features lighten up and he's the Oliver she knows again. "Hey," he croaks. "What are you doing up?" His eyes shift quickly as he scans her face before his expression shifts from sleepy to concern. "What's wrong?"

She bites her lip, still perturbed by his sudden altering of emotions. "Did you… Did you have a bad dream or something? Because you looked…" She tries to grasp for a word that would describe the multiple flashes of muscle contortions. "You looked like you were in pain. Then you scared me a little when you opened your eyes and looked straight at me like you were really angry with me."

"I'm sorry," he shakes his head, propping himself up on his elbow, and rubs his eyes. "It was just a nightmare."

"Do you have them often? I think you should see someone about it." She stops his hand from harassing his poor eye and grips it in both of hers. His dark eyes pierce into hers and concern floods into her system.

"It's fine. I used to have them a lot, but the past… nine months or so they've been sparse."

She can't help the smile that twitches her lips. "That's the amount of time we've been together."

"I know." He leans over to briefly peck her lips before he uses the arm that's still clutched between her hands to tug her down and lie on top of him. "Go back to sleep."

The next night, his mumbling wakes her up. It's all indecipherable until he starts muttering 'no' and his face starts to contort as he says something about a shadow before he starts crying out. Her heart clenches tightly and it's too agonising to watch him any longer that she vigorously shakes him awake.

"Huh?" he asks, disoriented.

"Oliver," she whimpers, her heart cries and her eyes struggles not to do the same.

He squeezes his eyes shut before pulling her into him. "'M sorry. It's fine; I'm fine. Just a nightmare."

"But-"

"I'm just stressed about Miggs."

She lets it go for now because he's already fallen back to sleep, his even breathing and heavy arm around her waist the telltale signs. (She's almost sure it's more than finding Billy Miggs.)

The next morning, she pulls Digg to the side and fills him in on what's been happening. He tells her that he used to get them as well, after his tour in Afghanistan. It only got worse after his brother's death. He suggests she try to talk to him about it because he eventually got better after confiding in someone he trusted and cared about on those bad days.

Her heart breaks for both Digg and Oliver, and the demons that haunt them in the one place they should feel safe and in control.

That night, she tries to wait until he falls asleep so she can watch over him, but she's had a long day at QC with Isabel constantly requesting she bring her coffee, it's too cold, get her a new one. Where's her bag - oh, she left it on her desk, could Felicity please get it for her? This is a private meeting between senior management, could you please close the door on your way out - oh yeah, and get them all a cup of coffee.

She's drifting off when he grips her pillow swiftly.

"Hey," he murmurs.

Her eyes blink open and his frown is back.

"Shado. Where's she."

"Oliver?" She scrambles to sit up in bed.

"Run," he growls.

She's afraid of what might happen if she touches him, but when he gives a shout and his whole body shudders like he's being tortured, her hands race to grab him. As soon as their skin brushes against each other, his eyes snap open and he yanks his arm away, taking her heart with him like a loose strand from a sweater caught on a protruding nail.

"Oliver," she breathes shakily.

He shakes his head lightly. "Sorry. Just a-"

"Don't you _dare_ say nightmare." She hates that it comes out wobbly and loud, the cracks in her words piercing her throat. She covers her mouth with one hand and her chest with the other as she attempts to slow her pounding heart. "Talk to me," she says, her voice cracking again. He sits up, the corner of his lips drooping. "Your nightmares are about the island, right?"

"Felicity…"

"Please," she implores, "I'm so scared for you." She searches his eyes, her hands wringing together close to her chest. Shrinking from him when he reaches for her, she looks down.

"My dad…" he finally starts, voice shaky. She glances up at him under her lashes to find him frowning down at his own hands, clenching into fists. She tentatively places her hands over them and he immediately relaxes. His hand turns over and their palms touch as his fingers link with hers. "He shot himself."

Crawling into his lap, she wraps her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He clutches her back.

"H-he killed himself to save me…"


	2. drunk

_drunk_

"John Diggle!" Felicity exclaims, throwing her arm out as he approaches her and Oliver at the bar. "Happy birthday! Wow, how _old_ are you right now?"

"You're drunk," he states, slightly amused as he bends down to accept her one-armed hug. Turning his accusing gaze over her head to Oliver, Digg points to Felicity, who's humming into her second glass of Long Island Iced Tea. "I thought you were keeping an eye on her?"

Oliver took it upon himself to monitor her and her alcohol intake when she started swaying on her way to the bathroom around three hours ago, her beautiful black silk cocktail dress covered with embellishments sparkling in the light with every movement. (As if she isn't distracting enough.) She had whispered discretely to him that she had to 'pee' before leaving to apparently do so. "I am." Shrugging, he grins good naturedly. "I'll intervene if she does something she'll regret the next morning. But she needs it after last night." They were following a lead she found and they ran into some unexpected trouble. The man they were tracking was prepared and Felicity had been caught in the crossfire on the one night she decided she needed to stretch her legs in fresh air.

"I know what you guys are thinking," Felicity says loudly over to the group of people chatting behind them and not paying them any attention whatsoever. "But I promise you nothing dirty happened. Okay, well something dirty did happen, but not like that. Nothing like that. More like-"

"Felicity," Digg intervenes. "Inside voice."

"Oh," she whispers, before signalling the 'okay' sign close to her face as she mouths along. "Hey bartender," she yells a second later. Digg drops his head back to look heavenward. Oliver smiles. "Let's get me and my boys over here some tequila shots."

The bartender appears immediately (only having been a few feet away) and fills three shot glasses. "Here ya go."

"Thanks!" She dutifully slides one shot glass in front of the three. "Hey, did you know that it's his birthday?"

The guy regards her before answering slowly, "Yeah. It's why you booked this place last month." He lifts a brow at Oliver, and he nods in understanding. _No more alcohol._

As soon as she moves to reach for the shot, Oliver quickly snatches it and pulls it out of her reach.

"Hey, that's mine. Yours is _right there_. Gimme." She pouts, leaning forward with her arm out. He moves with her and downs the shot along the way.

She gapes at him, mere inches from his face. "Why would you do that." She pushes herself upright using his chest for support. "It's so mean."

"You'll thank me tomorrow." He watches her purse her lips.

"I like you, Oliver," she states suddenly, patting his shoulder.

"I like you too," he replies laughingly.

"Felicity," Digg interrupts, arms on the bar as he appears over her shoulder. "I think Oliver should take you home now."

"Aw." She twirls in her stool to face the rest of the restaurant. "Party over?"

"For you, yes," Oliver concurs.

She sighs deeply. "Alright. First, where are my glasses 'cause I can't find them anywhere."

"You're wearing contacts," Digg grins.

"Oh." She begins blinking incessantly. "That's why my eyes feel weird."

Laughing, Oliver holds onto her hand to help her off the stool. "Come on, let's get you home."

"Goodnight, be safe." Digg stands and holds out her coat for her, but she casts her doleful eyes to the older man.

She makes a sound of protest from the back of her throat. "You're not coming with us?" she pouts. "We're the three amigos. We do everything together! Well, not_everything_, but… Oh wow, we spend _a lot_ of time together."

Digg scans the party before smiling down at her. "Tell you what, I'll walk you guys to the car."

"Okay!" she beams, stands a little too quickly and sways dangerously on her feet. "_Whoa_. Somebody stop the room from spinning."

Oliver guides her back onto the stool and she leans her head against his shoulder, clutching his arm.

"I'll bring the car around," Digg volunteers.

As he leaves, Felicity's small voice barely makes it to his ears over the buzz of the party. "Oliver?"

"Yes." He angles his head until he can see her face, her cheek pressed against his shoulder presents him with an adorable upside down view.

"I think I'm drunk," she mumbles, her lips unevenly puckered.

He chuckles, dropping a kiss to her forehead. "I think you're right."

"Do you think John liked his party?"

"Digg loves it."

One of her hands trail down his arm and tangles her fingers with his before he feels her press a kiss on his bicep. Her head grows heavier under his arm before he concludes that she's fallen asleep. He doesn't dare move a muscle in fear that he'll disturb her. She had a rough time sleeping last night due to the unforeseen struggle. He had stayed awake with her just so she wouldn't drive herself crazy reliving the images of watching him nearly get shot. He distracted her by asking her questions on how to develop a virus until she couldn't keep her eyes open. Just as she was finally drifting, though, her alarm went off not two hours later. He had urged her to sleep in, but she wanted to oversee the preparations for Digg's birthday party.

His phone buzzes with a text from Digg that he's outside the building, and with all the care and tenderness Oliver Queen possesses, he shifts Felicity until he's holding her close to his chest. He manages to slip her purse over his shoulder before heading out.

He quietly thanks Digg as he places her in the passenger seat. Digg buckles her up as he jogs over to the driver's side. She sleeps the whole ride home.

* * *

Carrying her up to their apartment is no big deal. The real challenge is juggling his girlfriend while looking for his key in one of his pockets. _He should've thought this through._ He sighs and checks the empty hallway before looking down at Felicity fast asleep.

An idea hits him and he slowly slides down the wall adjacent to his door. With her in his lap and against his chest, his arms are free to check his pockets.

On his way up, he accidentally crashes her foot against the doorframe and winces. He holds his breath and glances at her, waiting for any sign that she might wake.

Through the front door, he makes sure to lock it behind him before navigating his way through the apartment in the dark. Placing her on their bed, he switches on the bedside lamp and a gentle glow casts itself upon her serene face. He watches her for a moment until she mutters something about fries and chips before he begins the task of swapping her dress for her MIT t-shirt she wears to bed.

It's only after he tucks her in she begins to stir awake, and he blanches in the middle of stripping down to his underwear.

"Oliver?"

"Hey," he murmurs, throwing his blazer somewhere in the general direction of the chair beside the bathroom. "Go back to sleep."

"Where am I? Everything's so soft."

"In bed."

Her eyes flutter open. "Oh."

She reaches for him and he takes her hand, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead before he straightens and continues getting out of his clothes.

She snuggles into the sheets. "I like this pillow. They're like marshmallows. Hey, that rhymes," she discovers drowsily.

He chuckles, humming noncommittally as he pulls out sweatpants from the wardrobe on the other side of the bed.

He passes by her one more time when she stops mid-mumble about cookies. "Where are you going?" she asks anxiously.

He's about to tell her the bathroom, but looking at her now bathed in the soft hue of the dim lighting, he'll do anything just to wipe the heart-rending expression from her face. "Nowhere." He climbs under the covers and she shuffles over to his side of the bed, pressing herself along the length of his side. He rolls over to face her and tucks her head under his chin after brushing a gentle kiss across her forehead, her hands gripping the front of his shirt. "I'm right here."

* * *

**If you'd like to send me prompts, I'll be happy to read about it. If it sparks my muse, then more will be coming your way.**


	3. blood

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed and/or provided a prompt and those silent readers.**

**To Andy: ****_What a coincidence. I had already started something similar for each of your prompts :D_**

_blood_

Torturous moaning seeps from the cracks of the bedroom door, and Oliver frowns in concern, hazardly pushing aside his laptop as he scrambles off the couch.

"Felicity?" he asks through the door. Turning the knob to find it locked, he knocks quickly. "Open the door."

"_Nooo_," she groans.

His heart races. "Are you hurt? Felicity, please. What's happening?"

Silence follows. He flashes back to the last time she was in trouble and his eyes fall shut as he drives his shoulder against the door before jiggling the handle again.

"Felicity, talk to me."

"It hurts," she whimpers.

A breath stutters out through the tightening of his chest. It feels like his ribs are collapsing in and piercing his heart every time it tries to beat. "Wh-what hurts?" He tugs helplessly on the doorknob. "You're scaring me."

She groans again before there's shuffling behind the door. A soft click of it unlocking barely sounds before Oliver's throwing open the door and scanning the room for blood, a dead man walking, Felicity. _Where is she?_

A sharp knock vibrates through the door and he pulls it forward as he leans around it, where Felicity is frowning at him, a grimace upon her lips.

He steps further into the room and closes the door behind him. His eyes never leave her as he assesses her for any injuries. Her hair's a wet mess, water dripping from the ends and onto the bold blue blouse that's undone, her matching undergarments peeking out with every movement she makes. Her arms are holding her waist as she stands there barefoot. (He can't help thinking that she looks beautiful.)

"Is it your arm again?" He gently caresses her upper arm close to her elbow where she fractured it falling down the last step to the Arrow's base. (In her defence, she was carrying one too many boxes.) (In his defence, she slapped his hand away when he tried to help, stating that she didn't need him to help her and "Go the female population!".)

"No," she replies in a pouty voice. "Really bad cramps."

His hand lets go of her arm faster than when he's reaching for a bow from his quiver. He doesn't realise he's taken a step back until she looks at him, treachery slapped onto her face. "I'm sorry. I just- Do you need anything? DVDs? Chocolate? Uhm… Want to punch something?"

She tilts her head at him, a beautiful smile winning against the fight against the pain that's dug itself in the trenches of her countenance. "Girls don't sit around watching movies and crying into their box of chocolate, seething with their hatred of men, you know."

He regards her skeptically. "You don't do that?"

"No." She shuffles herself over to her bed and plants herself on the edge. "At least not every month," she mutters.

He follows her, squatting down into an uncomfortable position on his knees. His arms press along the length of her thighs, his hands gripping her pelvis, and his thumbs caress the exposed skin above the band of her underwear. "What can I do?"

"Can you just… hold me? For a while?"

They crawl at a slower pace than he's used to up to the top of the bed. He allows her to adjust their position until she's comfortable enough, her tiny hands finding his and she guides him to the skin under her belly button, and he massages the area obediently.

"Better?"

"Hmm," she hums. He kisses the back of her shoulder as his thumb brushes against her belly button, and she giggles. "That tickles."

"Sorry."

He's drifting off, content and comfortable, when Felicity suddenly groans. "It doesn't work anymore."

"Do you want some warm milk?"

"Please?" she pouts.

He rolls off the bed and turns to tuck her in when he spots a dark red splotch on her bedsheets, eliciting a rising panic within him. "Oh my god, you're bleeding!" he yelps. He coughs when she looks at him, and then points to the bed. "You're bleeding," he repeats in a much deliberate lower voice.

"That's what period means," she drolls, laughing slightly. She slides herself over to his side of the bed and examines the blotch. "I'm bleeding more than usual. I think my tampon's absorbed all that it can." She frowns for a moment, before exclaiming, "Crap!"

"What?" The panic skyrockets and he rushes forward. "Is it ok- are you okay?"

"Yeah," she smiles softly, patting his cheek with an affectionate kiss to his lips. "I just need to go out."

"Where? It's nearly midnight."

He stops her from moving off the bed. "Just to the store."

"I'll go."

"I don't think-"

"What do you need? I'll go and you can try to relax."

"I need…" she trails off and looks both ways, like she's trying to make sure they're alone before revealing a big secret. "Tampons," she whispers.

He hesitates, but when he spots the blood, he forces out, "I-I can do that."

After he gets her a roll of toilet paper (he has no idea what for), he runs out into the living room to find his phone. He starts researching periods and cramps as he heads to the closest 24/7 convenience store.

* * *

He roams the aisles looking for heating pads, Midol and tampons. Delighted, he finds it all in the feminine hygiene section. But that mood quickly changes when boxes upon boxes of different brands, sizes and features of tampons are lined up, mocking him.

_Crap_.

What is a flow? Are regular, super and lite like… sizes? Like condoms?

He gets one of each that would seem relevant. Felicity isn't a very sporty girl, so she wouldn't need that one. (Can girls even play sports while on their period? Wouldn't there be blood… _everywhere_?) But he has to snort as he comes across one made from cardboard. Really? That can't be comfortable. When he stumbles upon the pearl one, he coughs and pretends he doesn't see it. (Isn't that something sexual?)

An elderly couple walks by the aisle and he steps forward quickly so his body is pressed against the loofahs, trying to hide his face.

When he _sure_ no one else is in the store, he leaves the aisle and quickly searches for organic green tea and dark chocolate before approaching checkout with a basket full of items. The scrawny kid behind the counter gives him a look. "On your period?" _Punching a kid is bad_.

"They're for my girlfriend."

"Uh-huh," he grins, winking. _Punching a kid is bad, no matter how much of a dick he's being_. "Have a nice night!" he chirps, grating further on his nerves.

He snatches the bag from him, grunting equivocally.

On the cab ride home, he reads more about the menstrual cycle on his phone. By the time he's back at Felicity's apartment, he's more educated on periods and cramps than he'd like. He frowns when he sees that she's changed the bedsheets. She shouldn't be moving much if she's in that much pain.

"Felicity?"

She comes out of the bathroom and he shows her the boxes of tampons he'd laid out on the bed.

She laughs. "Why did you buy so many?"

"I didn't know which one you used. Or needed."

She picks a box and retreats back into the bathroom. Meanwhile, he starts up a storm in the kitchen, boiling water for the green tea and filling up a glass of water to take with her Midol, raiding her fridge for yogurt.

She's in bed and in one of his sweatshirts when he returns to the room. Placing the tray full of remedies on her bedside table, he sets up the electric heating pad and places it over her uterus before placing a kiss on her forehead. She breathes softly below him and he strokes her hair out of her face.

Her head turns to study the tray. "What's all this?"

"I read some stuff about cramps and these apparently help."

"You did?" she asks, wonder filtering into her tone as a smile graces her lips.

"Of course I did." He gives her the yogurt and spoon. "Eat."

"But I want the drugs now." She pushes his hands away and reaches for the box.

He tugs her hands away and pushes the yogurt toward her again. "You can't take it on an empty stomach."

"Oliver," she pouts, holding onto the carton like it's tainted.

He laughs. "Felicity."

He stares her down until she makes an unhappy noise from the back of her throat and tears open the paper lid.

"Good girl."

"Don't patronise me."

"… Do you want to hit something now?"

* * *

**Prompt: ****_Felicity has cramps and Oliver is awkward and uncomfortable but sweet  
_****Prompted by: ****_quisinart4_**


	4. hair

**Note: Pre-relationship, 2x07 episode tag**

_hair_

Flashes of events hours earlier invade Felicity's mind, and she tears her eyes open, gasping awake. Quickly flicking on her nightstand lamp, she whips around to assess her surroundings, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

She can't hear anything over the pulsing in her ears, and she forces herself not to cry. Her fingers propel through her wet hair and she tugs on the roots of them, the dull pain shooting through her skull. After she came back to her too quiet, too cold, too empty apartment, she runs to the bathroom, aching to wash her hair of the grime. She washed it twice before she felt somewhat less tainted in her heart.

Her sheets are damp with her sweat and she curls in on herself, a sob ripping through her throat. It feels good, so she allows one tear to drop before she cries out again, and then she can't stop the onslaught of emotion from boiling over and burning her throat.

When her breathing has calmed down enough that she's not hyperventilating anymore and there's no more tears left to cry, she reaches for her phone and dials a number. Not half a ring later, the other person picks up.

"Felicity?" Oliver's voice says immediately, and the familiar tone placids her slightly.

"Oliver," she croaks.

"What is it?"

She tries to tell him that she can't sleep; she's scared; she's all alone, but all that comes out is a shaky breath that burns her throat and encourages newfound tears to pool in her eyes.

"I'm coming over."

"No," she hurries. "J-just don't hang up."

"Okay," he soothes, she closes her eyes. "I won't leave you."

She falls asleep to the sound of his stable breathing, comforting her heart, like reading a bedtime story to a child.

* * *

When she gets up for work the next morning, she drags her feet around her apartment, taking twice the amount of time she normally does to get ready. As she's brushing through the tangles in her hair, Felicity stares mindlessly at the blonde. She doesn't realise she's pulled it up into a ponytail until she turns away and the sensation of her hair swishing behind her produces an unwanted rising heart rate. Shutting her eyes only makes it worse as her treacherous mind conjures up an image of his face, smirking at her. She rips the elastic out, and gripping the ends of her anguished hair, she sinks down to the floor.

* * *

Looking up at the Queen Consolidated building, Felicity bites her lip unsurely. The window to Oliver's office is replaced; any and all reminders of the night before gone. She wishes it were that easy for her to forget.

She feels the ghost of his hand running along her low side ponytail and she shivers, a sick chill running down her spine. Her fingers drive through her hair, tugging on the ends helplessly.

Someone grabs her arm and she jumps, a cry retching out of her throat.

"Felicity, it's me."

The voice soothes her overworked heart and she closes her eyes, spinning on her toes to fall into Oliver's arms.

* * *

She takes a week off from work and spends the first two days cooped up in her bed. Diggle and Oliver take turns visiting every few hours with food and light conversation, and she's grateful for the distraction.

But she doesn't want to be distracted from the trauma still taunting her mind. She doesn't want to just sweep it under the rug and get on with her life. She wants to face the demons and fight back.

So one morning, she gets up, showers, twirls her still damp hair into a knot and slaps on a baseball cap before heading out.

* * *

The day she goes back to work, people stop and stare as she walks by.

When she gets to the top floor, she keeps her eyes down and sits herself at her desk before staring at her impassive reflection in the blank computer screen. Adjusting her brunette long bob, Felicity nods determinedly to herself before turning on her desktop. While she waits, she makes herself take in the floor, and surprise jolts her body at the change of layout before the cozy atmosphere of the floor lulls her. The walls are a warm shade of deep red and there are couches placed against the opposite wall of her desk, by the elevator.

She drags her eyes to the conference room. The furnitures have been replaced and rearranged and the walls are painted a darker shade of red with a beautiful framed collection of pressed flowers hanging on the wall facing her desk.

She glances at Oliver in his office through the glass and he smiles at her. Biting her lip, she smiles back.

* * *

**Prompt: ****_Felicity and the aftermath of the happenings with the Count  
_****Prompted by: ****_emilyhotchner-and-olicityfan_**


	5. student

**So I've lost the motivation to write these past few days. I've been trying get back into the groove. Here's some mindless fluff.**

_student_

"Okay, now jab," Oliver demands. "_Jab_. I said jab!"

"I'm _trying_," Felicity huffs. "Oliver, this is really complicated."

He shifts closer on the couch and reaches for the Xbox 360 controller with his good hand. "What's so complicated about hitting A?" he asks rhetorically, pushing incessantly on the button as she navigates the character with the left stick.

"When you have to dodge and kick and run all at the same time!" The speakers ooze with unsupportive booing as the character of the computer's player on the plasma screen taunts her with an evil laugh. She drops the controller in frustration, scowling at the cartoon. "Oliver, I don't want to do this anymore."

"But we just started." He cradles his right wrist to his chest and fakes a grimace. "And you said you'd do anything."

"I meant fluffing your pillows or getting you snacks or helping an itch in your cast, not…" She motions feverishly to the screen where the character is now flexing his muscles and pointing at her, smirking. "Playing stupid video games."

His jaw unhinges in offense. "We aren't _playing_; I'm training you. The doctor says I can't move my wrist for another three weeks, and the rematch is in a week and a half. I can't let that punk win _again_."

"Do you even know his name?"

"No, just his user ID."

"You don't even know who he is. Who cares if he beat you a couple times." She pushes the controller away as Oliver tries to hand it back to her.

"_Seven_ times, and I care. I have years of video gaming to catch up with."

"Then can't you postpone the rematch until after your cast is off?" she pouts.

"He can't make it then… He has school," he admits bashfully.

"Oliver," she whines quietly.

"Please." He leans over and gently pecks her cheek. "Please," he murmurs against her skin, his hot breath heating up her face. "For me?"

"Fine," she grumbles, accepting the controller he hands her. "But we're playing Mario Kart after. That's so much more fun than this stupid street fighting game."

"I'll pay you back."

"You'd better," she mutters, hitting replay.

* * *

"_You're not even trying_."

"Oliver, you're yelling at me," Felicity chides, stabbing the buttons to carry out a jump kick combination.

"I would never yell at you," Oliver declares. "I'm just talking really loud."

"You know what, if you're going to be mean to me, I'm not gonna do this anymore." Slamming her palm on the controller, she tears her eyes away from the screen to look at him spitefully as she throws the controller at him. He glowers back and opens his mouth to speak just as the speakers boom with applause as her character -_finally_ - heaves out a loud cheer.

They both whip their heads around to see the opponent on the train tracks of their fighting field (Ridiculous, right? They could get killed.) as their character waves his arms around in victory.

"What did you do?" Oliver says in awe.

"I don't know, I just slammed a whole lot of keys." Grabbing back the controller, Felicity hits replay.

* * *

A week later, Oliver's trash talking into his headset to the thirteen year old boy who's been terrorising Oliver for a month while Felicity silently battles it out with the kid.

They win.

* * *

The night his cast comes off, he shows his appreciation by hitting a different button altogether in the bedroom. She wins two times.

After, they fire up a game of Mario Kart and she beats him. Three times.

* * *

**Prompt: ****_Have Oliver train Felicity_****  
Prompted by: ****_LittleLoretta5_**

**- I understand this is probably not what you had in mind, but it came to me in the shower and I couldn't shake it. (If I were a guy this would be funny.)**


	6. bully

_bully_

"Hahaha," Oliver laughs (she thinks) from beside Felicity. Startled by the abnormal sound, she pulls back, turning wide eyes on him. The man they had been talking to excuses himself to greet a woman passing by. _Probably to bore her to death as well._

She's almost afraid to ask, but curiosity invades her brain and her mouth is taken over. "What was that?"

He raises his brows as he shrugs. "What?"

"Hahaha," she imitates in a low voice, throwing her head back dramatically.

He grins at her, a genuine laugh slipping out. "It's my Social Laugh."

"Your Soc- Okay." She nods. She gets that. Honestly, these people are about as funny as computer viruses. "Should I get one?"

"Why?"

She sighs. "Well, if you're going to drag me to these things from now on I'll need one. Duh."

Grinning, Oliver faces her head on. "Okay, try one."

"How does this sound?" She clears her throat before a high pitched giggle forces its way from her throat.

He winces. "No."

"No?"

He shakes his head. "Definitely not."

"Okay, how about this? Ha. Hahaha."

His nose scrunches a little as he tilts his head from side to side. "Better."

"I think I'm running out of fake laughs, here. You're extremely picky. This is my last offer." She sucks in a breath, about to force out yet another laugh, when a very familiar squeal bursts her eardrums and the humour of the situation gets caught in her throat.

"Hey! It's Full-o'-Shitty!"

It takes her a second to find the voice and half of another second to instinctively duck behind Oliver. "Crap," she hisses.

"What did she just call you?" he asks, his voice astounded.

"Nothing." She quickly pushes Oliver into the barstool beside them as she spies the woman getting closer.

The woman smirks. "Well, if it isn't Felicity Smoak."

"Wendi Harris," Felicity greets hesitantly, slapping on a smile. The woman looks very different from the last time she saw her, almost unrecognisable; her chest is sizably larger, her lips are a little swollen and her eyes are so smokey she spies a little gunk in the corner of her left one.

"It's been too long." She resists the urge to close her eyes as her unmistakable high-pitched voice pierces her ears. _Yep, it's Trendy Wendi, alright._

"Has it?" Her smile stretches as she tilts her head at the woman. _Not long enough, if she's being honest._

"Oh, Felicity, always the joker." Wendi giggles, whacking her arm.

She flinches because her long acrylic nail nearly sliced her arm off. "Actually-"

"It's so nice to see you!" she carries on. "I never expected little Felicity at a place like this."

"Oliver Queen's hosting this gala." She grabs onto Oliver's arm and spins him around to face her. "My boyfriend." She pats him and from the corner of her eye she sees him glance down at her before smoothly fixing a smile on his face.

"Hi, Oliver Queen," he greets in an upper class society way - AKA with a perfect snooty voice concealed only by a thin curtain of modesty.

Wendi takes his offered hand and shakes enthusiastically. "I know who you are. I'm Wendi Harris. I'm sure you know all about me from Felicity."

"Um," Felicity interrupts.

"You know," she continues. "I managed to snag myself someone too." She winks, grinning lecherously at Oliver before turning to Felicity expectantly.

Mentally rolling her eyes, Felicity feigns interest, "Oh. Really, who?"

"Rex Tyler."

Hopefully, she schools her expression just in time as her shock sizzles inside of her. _Rex Tyler, fifty-something year old millionaire?_

Wendi winks a heavily made up eye at her. "We did good for ourselves."

Uncomfortable, Felicity merely smiles back politely as she adjusts the glasses perched on her nose.

"Oh, honey," she condescends, swatting at her hand. "You should get laser eye surgery so you don't have to wear those god-awful glasses of yours."

She plays with the bridge self-consciously.

"I like her glasses."

Her head whips around to Oliver, who's smiling at her.

"I think she looks adorable." At her pout, he finds her hand and quickly adds, "And incredibly intelligent, which you really are."

Wendi clears her throat not so subtly because apparently nothing's changed and nobody's paying her any attention for the past two seconds. "Well, it was lovely seeing you again, Felicity," she pronounces and takes Felicity by surprise by pulling her in for a hug. She pats her back awkwardly with the one hand that isn't still holding Oliver's.

She imagines she looks almost comical hugging an artificial woman while her other arm is outstretched, clinging on to the most handsome man in the room. As soon as Wendi lets go, Felicity stumbles back into Oliver, who steadies her.

"And it was nice to finally meet you, Oliver Queen." She offers Oliver her hand and he takes it, shaking it lightly. "I'm going to find my husband. Momma needs a drink."

"Oh-kay, bye-bye now," Felicity waves, never before feeling so relieved as she watches Wendi strut off with an air of significance.

Oliver turns to her with an inquisitive look.

Sighing, she tugs him closer via his lapel, and he tilts his head down. "You know how in every grade, there's this one mean girl of all mean girls? Wendi Harris was my mean girl."

His arm glides across her back, his touch incredibly warm. "Why did she call you 'Full-o'-shitty'?"

"They didn't believe me when I told them that tomatoes are fruit," she mumbles, staring at his crooked bowtie.

"That's awful," he frowns, running a palm down her forearm before his thumb brushes her bicep.

"That's high school," she counters, and because she needs something to do, she adjusts the bowtie.

His hands find hers and squeezes them as he places a kiss on the back of her left palm before holding both against his chest, near his heart. "How are tomatoes fruit?"

"Vegetables with seeds are actually fruit," she explains.

"Ah." He nods in understanding. "What about cucumber?"

She knows what he's doing, and it's so sweet she can't help but smile as she answers, "Fruit."

His eyebrows raise in surprise. "Interesting… Pumpkin?"

Although she's wearing heels and it gives her an extra inch or three, she still has to lift herself onto her toes to give him an adoring kiss. "I love you."


	7. ER

_ER_

"_Crap_, I'm late," she mutters, flagging down a cab.

Just as she tells the driver the address to the Queen Mansion (It still intimidates her every time she goes there.), her phone starts singing Charlie Chaplin's 'Smile'.

"Felicity, we'll eat up all the fritters if you don't get here soon," Oliver threatens as soon as she answers.

"_Noo_," she gasps. "Not the fritters! I'm literally in the cab _right now_."

"Is that Felicity?" Thea says in the background. "Gimme."

"Thea," Oliver calls out, "no-!"

"Hello? Lissy?"

"Hey Thea," Felicity laughs. It still gives her the tingles every time Thea calls her that. It's the first nickname she has that isn't embarrassing or unpleasant.

"Where the heck are you? Seriously, my stomach is slowly consuming itself every second you're not here."

"I'll be there very soon. Just tell your stomach to hold on for a little longer."

"Alright," she sighs. "Oliver's glowering at me so I'm gonna give him the phone back. Bye!"

"I'll see you soon," Oliver says.

"Okay. Love you."

"I love you too," he says, and she bites her lip because she can hear the smile in his voice.

Grinning to herself, Felicity hangs up and just as she takes a glance out of her window, she's blinded by whiteness, followed by a deafeningly loud _bang_ before she's propelled across the other side of the cab. The only thing saving her from crushing against the other door while simultaneously choking her in its hold, is her seatbelt.

* * *

Felicity groans as she rubs her collarbone from the burn the seatbelt left. "Ugh." Rubbing her forehead, she attempts to unbuckle the constraint, but it doesn't budge. "Mr. Cab Driver, sir? Are-are you okay?" She reaches forward to the man at the front, but is pulled back by the resistance of the unrelenting strap.

Someone appears in front of her window and starts rapping incessantly, and it feels like he's knocking on her temple as it throbs in protest. "Miss? Miss, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," she exhales. "The guy at the front - he's not answering me. Is he awake?"

"No, not yet. Can you move?"

Nodding, Felicity tries to do just that, but winces as she leans on her right wrist.

* * *

"Felicity?"

Felicity lifts her head from her chart the paramedics left, frowning at the commotion behind her ugly yellow curtain.

"Where is she?… I don't care! I want to see her right now… Do you know who I am? I'm Oliver Queen-"

"Oliver, calm the hell down! _Jesus_," Thea's voice rings loudly. "Where's Felicity Smoak? She's this pretty little blonde, about this tall with rockin' glasses. What else? She's uber smart… Oh yeah, and _she was in a car accident_!"

"Okay, you two need to calm down or I'm going to have to call secu- Hey! Get back here!"

Someone swipes open a curtain a few beds down and Felicity quickly hops off her bed to poke her head out.

"Lissy!" Thea exclaims next to Oliver, whose hand is reaching for another curtain, and she breaks off striding toward her.

Oliver spins around, letting go of the curtain when his eyes fall on her. His body visibly relaxes before he starts charging toward her, spewing out questions: "Are you okay? What happened? You're bleeding, how serious is it?"

Thea grabs her before Oliver can take her outstretched hand, squeezing her a little too tightly.

"Uh, ow," Felicity says.

Thea gasps and lets go. "Sorry!"

"It's fine," she manages to get out before Thea's being pushed aside and Oliver pulls her into his arms and she gets a mouthful of sweater.

"I was so scared when they told me you were in an accident." He pulls back, arms holding her shoulders lightly, and his eyes scan the length of her meticulously. "These nurses-"

"Are doing their job," she cuts in, pushing him inside her make-shift room and smiling apologetically at the displeased nurse. "I'm so sorry. Sometimes their emotions get the best of them."

"I'm watching you two," the nurse threatens to Thea, wagging a finger at them all before heading back to the desk.

* * *

When Felicity's settled back in her bed, the Queens crowding her on both sides, a fairly young doctor drops in to clean the cut she has on her forehead.

"How old are you?" Thea interrogates as she moves down to the end of the bed.

"Twenty-six." Doctor Haywood, Felicity reads from her ID, answers attentively as she takes out a suture kit.

"And you're a doctor?" Oliver continues.

"Yes. Well, not really; I'm an intern." She starts disinfecting her cut, and Felicity winces from the sting.

Oliver takes her hand and she squeezes it. It makes her feel a little better, like she's transferring some of the sting on to Oliver or she's absorbing some of his toughness and tolerance for pain.

"We want someone else," he states.

"Yeah, I don't want you doing a sloppy job on her," Thea adds.

"I can assure you that I am qualified and trained to-"

"Who's your supervisor?" Oliver interrupts.

"Guys," Felicity berates.

"There are too many people in here," Doctor Haywood announces. "Let's move to the waiting room, okay?"

Oliver grips her hand tighter. "I'm staying."

Thea pats her leg affectionately before leaving (after Haywood and Oliver stare pointedly at her). "I'll call mom and tell her you're okay." She slips out of the curtains, but her head pokes back in a second later. "Stuffed bear that says 'Get Well Soon'?" she inquires, grinning as she points meaningfully at Felicity.

"Okay," Felicity laughs.

Oliver looks down to her, running the side of his index finger along her bruised wrist that's resting in her lap. "Did they say anything about your injuries? Are they bad?"

Felicity shrugs. "No one's come to see me yet."

"What? How long have you been here for?"

"Around half an hour."

"That's ridiculous. You're number one priority as an ER patient." He looks up at the intern and repeats to her, "She's a number one priority as an ER patient. Half an hour is an unacceptable amount of-"

She grabs Oliver's arm before he starts getting worked up and yelling again. "Oliver, everyone in here is an ER patient."

"Where's the bastard who hit you?"

"He left the scene before paramedics got there."

"Son of a bitch."

"Oliver, this is a hospital. Watch your language."

"Sorry," he grumbles.

"Miss, please stop moving," the intern says. "I'm trying to stitch you up."

"Sorry," she mumbles.

When Haywood finishes stitching her forehead, she leaves to get the ER's portable X-ray machine. As she leaves, a police officer steps in, wanting a statement. Oliver, disgruntled, asks if it can wait because she's finally being treated. After Felicity recounts what happened, the officer thanks her and steps back out.

"Oliver," she admonishes quietly, frowning at him. "You're using your Arrow voice."

"It's effective."

"You're being incredibly disruptive to these people who are trying to do their jobs."

"They're obviously not very good at it. You were waiting half an hour before anyone even looked at you, for god's sake."

"They're doing the best they can. There are patients who need their attention more."

"Felic-"

"No."

He makes a noise from the back of his throat as he stalks to the corner of the small space to sulk.

Sighing, she moves to pick at the dry blood stain on her jeans with her right hand, forgetting about the bruising, and winces.

In one giant step, Oliver's at her side and hovering his hands over her, as if trying to diagnose what's causing her discomfort through the power of his touch. "What is it? Is it your stitches? I told you we should have gotten someone else."

"No, I just… I forgot about my wrist and moved it."

His thumb brushes so lightly across her right hand she wouldn't have felt it if she isn't looking down at it.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," she divulges, tilting her head back to look up at him.

He places a soft kiss next to her cut, smoothing back her hair. "I'm sorry for being rude."

She shakes her head, closing her eyes. "You're just looking after me."

"I should have been more patient and understanding of the pressures of these jobs."

Opening her eyes, she grins at him. "You really should have."

The kiss he presses into her hair gets lost in the tangles before she cranes her neck to capture one, this time on her mouth, feeling the curve of his smile as she pecks at his lips.

* * *

After the X-ray, Doctor Haywood concludes that it's just a minor wrist contusion and bandages the area as she lists instructions and recommendations.

She thanks her and makes Oliver do the same before they look for Thea.

As they pass the nurses' station, Felicity doubles back to ask about the cab driver. "Excuse me, they brought in a man about an hour ago in a car accident. I was just wondering- Ow! Oliver, what?"

Oliver's gripping her arm a little too tightly and when she turns to frown at him, he's looking mildly incredulous somewhere behind her. There, in the middle of the hospital is Thea, standing next to a bear almost as tall as she is, waving excitedly at them.

"Oh."

"Isn't this so cute?" Thea grins.

Pushing away from the counter, they make their way to where Thea is standing. "I don't think that will fit in the car," Felicity muses, gently patting the big fur ball.

"Thea," Oliver complains. "Why."

"He was so adorable and looking at me with big sad eyes. Look at that face!" She heaves the bear until it's eye level with Oliver and Felicity laughs, pushing her face against the side of the bear before pulling a pouty face. "Please take me home with you," Thea says in a small voice.

He relents with a sigh and Felicity and Thea giggle as they leave the hospital, both holding each of the bear's arm. They have to stop halfway through the parking lot because Felicity gets tired and Oliver offers to carry her the rest of the way, but she just hands her side of the bear to him, and he begrudgingly takes it.

As Felicity settles into the passenger seat, with the unnecessary help from Oliver, Thea pokes her head in between the front seats and promises that she'll visit Felicity and the bear every day (to the chagrin of Oliver). On the way to the mansion, she looks suspiciously at the two Queens. "Did you eat all the fritters?"

* * *

**Prompt: ****_Felicity in a car accident_****  
Prompted by: ****_Andy_**** and ****_lmrasef_**** (at ao3)**


	8. storm

_storm_

Oliver's captivated by the sight in front of him: Felicity dancing across the white of the snow, her face the most carefree he's ever seen as her laughter wafts through the cold air to his ears from his place on the deck of his family's cabin.

"This is so great! I love snow." With her legs planted firmly in the few inches of snow, she twists her upper body around to look back at him, her winter coat squeaking with the movement. "Come on out, Oliver!"

He trudges down the steps to where Felicity is starting to pile up a large ball of snow. Grabbing her by her waist, he spins her around, her laughter coming out in puffs of smoke in the cold air. He grins as he puts her down, kissing her as soon as she turns in the circle of his arms.

"Hi," he murmurs against her mouth, rubbing their cold noses together. The closer proximity rewards him with the gift of her flushed cheeks and animated eyes. Smiling, he brings his hands to her face, wishing he weren't wearing gloves so he could feel the softness of her skin.

"Hi," she beams back, but there's a mischievous glint in her eye.

Coldness trickles down his neck and he grunts in shock before his brain registers that she'd just smashed snow against his face. He shakes his head as she doubles over in hysterics a few feet away. "You're going to get it." He lunges for her, his own impish grin on his face as she shrieks and makes a run for it.

Her legs are weighed down by her boots, and combined with her inexperience in snow, he catches her in record time, launching himself across the air and taking her down with him. He twists their bodies before they land and she falls on top of him. "Ooft," she huffs, her face scrunched tightly.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

He nods.

She looks so happy with her bright eyes and a bright smile. The cold lashing out and tinting her cheeks and nose pink does nothing to dull her mood. He can't help but kiss her, his glove covered hand running through her hair and pushing her face closer to his as he strains his neck getting closer to her warm lips.

She lets out a breath into his mouth as she kisses him back, scratching their coats together noisily as she moves her body up. He makes a disagreeing noise in the back of his throat when she starts to pull away.

"We should probably get up."

"No." He gets up on his elbows and stretches his neck to capture her lips again as she giggles.

"Isn't your ass getting wet?"

He shifts, grimacing. "Kinda."

She smiles at him softly before leaning down again to plant a sweet kiss on the tip of his numb nose. "Ooh! Snow angel!" She rolls right off him before her limbs spread out like an adorable starfish.

He gets back to his feet and brushes the snow off his backside as her limbs fly about in the snow.

"How does it look?" she asks, and he takes her proffered arm to help her up before they stare down at her work.

"Beautiful," he states, watching as she bounces in her spot, grinning. The flakes of snow in her hair are sparkling in the sun and casting a divine aura around her. His cheeks hurt - not from the cold, but from the smile that pulls at his face.

* * *

"I can't believe your family owns a cabin in _Aspen_," Felicity gushes over the soft cackling of the fire behind her. "I mean, I _can_ because your family practically swims in money, but... I don't know where I'm going with this."

He chortles lightly, watching her roll her eyes self -deprecatingly before taking a sip of her hot cocoa. "Mom and Thea don't come here anymore. It reminds them too much of dad, but that's why I keep coming here every winter."

The faint smile highlights her features and the shadows of the firelight dance across her face, haunting him so beautifully he can't look away.

She reaches forward to rub his out- stretched legs and he catches her hand in his to tug her closer. Her mug carefully placed to the side, she crawls and settles in his lap. His arms circling her waist, he leans back against the couch and places a warm kiss to her forehead as she snuggles into him.

* * *

The crackling of thunder jolts him into consciousness and Felicity stirs awake.

"Sorry," he mumbles, steadying her against his chest as he twists his neck to see out the window. The light on the back porch provides him a dim view of the backyard where snowflakes dance along with the music the tree branches and strong wind are creating.

_Snowstorm_.

Not many things scare Oliver. Especially after everything he went through during those five years, he's become immune to the 'dangers' of all Starling City has to offer. But there's always one little irrational fear that everyone has. Storms are it for him. Whether it be hail, rain or snow - any kind of storm, really. He's never liked them as a kid and the time on the island only aggravated this fear during those nights where it thundered loudly and rained heavily. The warmest and safest shelter he had was the plane, which was basically a lightning magnet.

"It's really crazy out there," Felicity muses.

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"Hm?" He tears his gaze away from the eerie sight to the warm face of Felicity, the taunting winds tormenting his ears and swirling distractingly in his head. "I'm fine. It's just... I don't like storms."

"Me neither. When I was a kid, really big storms would flood my house and we'd have to -"

A loud bang interrupts Felicity's story, and Oliver flinches. His gaze is drawn to the window, where the falling snow swirls more rapidly, striking the windows sharply, like arrows.

He doesn't notice Felicity's climbed off him until she's closing the ceiling- to -floor length curtains and frowning at him. "Wow, you really don't like storms."

"Yeah." Standing up, he stretches his back before falling back on the couch, trying to concentrate on the crackling of the fire instead of the noise outside.

She takes a seat beside him and runs her hands all over him; fingers kneading the back of his neck, scratching at his chest, rubbing his back. "Wanna make out?"

His mouth twitches as he regards her; her eyebrows are raised, her head's tilted questioningly and her lips are curled into a beautiful smile. He knows she's trying to distract him. It's sweet and he loves her for it. "Maybe later."

* * *

Branches tap on the windows throughout the cabin, seeking shelter from the ruthless wind swarming around and causing chaos. Something outside falls with a loud crash after a flash of lightning shoots through the sky and the tv flickers on and off, disturbing the movie playing, though it's not like he's watching anymore.

"Oliver," Felicity says, pushing the bowl of popcorn in his lap.

"I'm fine."

* * *

"Three?"

"Go fish," he says.

She glances down at her hand before squinting at him over the top of her cards. "Are you lying to me, Oliver Queen?"

"I'm not," he defends.

"The past six cards I've asked for you didn't have. The probability -"

A creaking from outside shuts Felicity up and she jumps, the cards in her hands raining down on her. "What was that?" she whispers, crawling closer to him.

He squeezes her arm for comfort, though for hers or his, he's not sure. "Hold on." He moves to the window and slowly peaks out of the curtain. A lawn chair slides across the deck, causing the uncomfortable squeaking. "It's just the lawn furniture." He sighs and then cringes as a jolt of lightning flashes angrily above him.

* * *

"Okay, so you want to relax your stance and face the target on an angle... Like this," he instructs, maneuvering her body as she squints at the dartboard.

"Now?"

"Try now."

She throws the dart and it lands just on the edge of the board. "Darn!"

"At least you got it on the board this time."

"I thought we weren't going to talk about that, ever."

"Sorry." He hides his smile in her hair despite the fact that she's not looking at him in the first place. "Let's try again." He positions her again and stands behind her, helping her aim the dart.

She jumps as he grips her waist tighter when there's a loud boom just as she lets go of the dart, and it goes sailing through the air, piercing the wall on top of the board. "… Maybe we shouldn't play with sharp objects right now."

"Yep."

* * *

"Oliver," she moans. "Please."

He grunts, pushing faster.

"_Oliver_!"

Groaning, his arms drop and he falls face first to the hardwood floor before she scrambles off his back. When he turns his head, she frowns at him. "What's wrong?" he mumbles.

"I'm not comfortable sitting on you while you're doing push ups. You could seriously throw out your back."

He sits up as he sighs, rubbing his eyes. "We've done this before."

She leans forward then, whispering, "I'm carrying some holiday weight."

He grins then. "Felicity, you're not heavy. _At all_."

A high-pitched whirl chills his spine and he reaches for her. When she crawls over to him and she's close enough, he easily pulls her into his lap and hugs her from behind. Her hands run along his arms before they cover his hands and her elbows push into the back of his as she leans back.

Her head turns and her lips brush against his cheek. "_The sun'll come out... tomorrow! Bet'cha_-"

"Felicity."

"No? Okay."

* * *

Her jaw drops. "You didn't!"

He grins. "I did."

"No." She shakes her head. "You're lying."

"I swear on my life, chocolate milk _poured_ out of Thea's nose."

Felicity's loud burst of laughter gives life to a smile on Oliver's face.

Little eight year old Thea snorting out milk is always a Christmas story he likes to hash out every year.

He watches her, mesmerised; head thrown back slightly, eyes closed and concealing her beautiful blues, jaw unhinged to let out the sweet melodic sound of her laughter. When she tilts her head a little too back, her hand flies out to hold onto him to keep from falling backwards. Using her grip as an anchor, he pulls her closer to him and plants a kiss to her nose, smiling when she scrunches it up, her face pushed together cutely.

A distant boom nudges his ears, and it's now he realises that he hadn't once thought about the storm brewing outside since they started trading funny holiday stories. She's the calm in this storm. Just listening to and watching Felicity laugh is more than distracting enough, and Oliver likes that she just be here, be herself, and he'll feel better. It's like she's his security blanket. He'll hold onto her and she'll make him feel better just by being here with him. He kisses her sweetly, their lips grazing each other lightly as he lovingly runs his fingers through her hair.

"Merry Christmas," she murmurs.

Her eyes shift around slightly as if she can't decide where to look. He grins and her eyes fall down to his mouth. He leans forward until their foreheads are touching, leaning against each other and her eyes finally rest, staring into his. "Happy Hanukkah."

* * *

**Prompt: _caught in a snowstorm_**  
**Prompt by: _Murgy31_**

**You guys don't know how difficult it is to write about snow and cold and hot cocoa when I'm sweating because it's summer right now, and it never snows where I am.**


	9. happy

_happy_

"Oliver, this is…" Felicity gulps as she looks at herself in the mirror, fingering the delicate sparkly thing around her neck. "It's beautiful," she breathes. Shaking her head lightly (_What if she breaks it? Oh god, this thing probably costs more than her car and she'll break it. She knows it_), she yanks on his finger from the hand that's caressing her arm. "It's too much. I can't accept this. Please take it off - but _gently_!"

"Nonsense." She watches him in the mirror, smiling softly at her and nudging the necklace before brushing a kiss across her shoulder. "It's just something gorgeous for someone beautiful."

"Why are you… I mean, I appreciate the sentiment, but why are you doing all of this?" She bites her lip and tries to unclasp the jewellery, but Oliver pulls her hand away.

"I just want to look after you." He kisses the back of her hand once, twice, before tangling their fingers. "I want to make you happy," he murmurs, pressing his cheek against hers from behind.

Turning around, Felicity looks up at him, a hand resting on his chest. "I am happy. I don't need expensive jewellery or a big mansion to live in to make me happy. Good health, a safe city and you - you make me happy. That's more than enough for me."

"I love you."

"I love you too." She accepts his kiss, running her fingers through the side of his head. When they pull apart to rest their foreheads together, she smiles cheekily. "Besides, if you _really_ want to get into my heart, motherboards are the way to go," she jokes.

* * *

Oliver's been acting really strange the last few days. Whenever she'd put herself into socially awkward situations, he wouldn't smile in amusement and tilt his head like he always does. She found him staring blankly at his laptop screen the other night, and when she'd round the desk and asked if there was something wrong with the computer, he'd slammed the lid closed so hard she jumped. He had apologised and said that it was something private. She had let it go, but it bugs her a little at the thought that he's keeping secrets from her. It begs the question if he's hiding more from her than he's leading on.

"Hey, so Digg and I are gonna go grab some lunch."

"Oh, yum. I'll join you." She rises from her seat but he shakes his head.

"No, I'll bring you something back. You need to, um… proofread some paperwork I left my on desk."

Frowning, she looks to Digg for an answer, but he just rolls his eyes, snorts and shakes his head before punching the elevator button.

"Chicken Deli Sandwich with potato wedges for sides?" She nods as he leans over her desk to press a kiss to her forehead. "I'll get you some fruit salad as well."

Staring dumbfounded at her reflection in the computer screen after he leaves, Felicity starts sifting through any reason why he would be acting strange. There's a fleeting thought that he might be seeing someone behind her back, but she immediately shuts that down, because she trusts Oliver; she believes that he would never do something like that. Not anymore.

She eventually chalks it up to him being antsy about Moira's dispute with Isabel and the younger woman leaving the company.

Felicity pulls out her personal tablet and checks the status of the facial recognition software running in the Arrowcave. Ignoring the paperwork on Oliver's desk in favour of playing some Candy Crush Saga, she wonders how long they'll be because she's craving some potato wedges right about now.

* * *

A few days later, Oliver's only gotten worse and Felicity's starting to get seriously worried. It can't be because of his nightmares because they only happen once every few months on his bad days. The quarrelling between Moira and Isabel has died down considerably with a compromise that Isabel work from the Russian subsidiary. They were successful with the last criminal they had been pursuing. He's been consecutive with his victories in his silly combat game with Diggle. _What else can there be?_

"Oliver," Felicity begins, playing with her fingers in front of her. "Is there something wrong?"

She's too busy staring down at her feet to know if he's even looked up from assembling his arrows. There's a clanging of metal before his feet appear in her line of vision, stopping only when the toes of his shoes meet the resistance of her own, and she looks up when his warm hand stills her fidgeting ones.

His face is so close that their noses are touching and she has to close her eyes or she'll go cross-eyed from looking at him at this distance (or lack thereof).

"Everything's fine. Is there something the matter with you?" he asks.

She shakes her head and their noses rub together in an eskimo kiss. "Are you sure? You've been acting strange these past few days."

"Oh. You've noticed."

"I know you, Oliver. Nothing about you gets past me without my knowing."

His hand comes up to cup the back of his neck before he starts rubbing it nervously.

She lifts a brow.

"Yeah, I've been stressing about something lately."

"What is it?" Her hand rests against his chest as she gazes pleadingly into his eyes. "Let me help."

"I… I can't."

Her face falls and she takes a step back, but he pulls her back in. She has half a mind to draw away. The other half just wants to snuggle into his warmth because since he started acting weird this is the longest and closest they've been with each other awake. She'd be a little concerned about how dependent she is on his touch, but it feels too good to care, really.

"Not yet, anyway," he rushes. "I promise I'll tell you. Just not now."

"… Okay." She smiles, and she knows that he sees right through it, but she can't pretend that it doesn't hurt a little that he actually is keeping something from her.

"It's nothing bad," he adds, and this time her smile is genuine.

"Promise?" she pushes.

"Promise."

"Is it a pony?"

"No," he chuckles before biting his lip, and she hops onto her toes to press her lips against his. His hands slide to the small of her back where she feels them link together, trapping her in his arms. Her own hands slide around his sides to grip his shoulders from behind, the muscles flexing under her fingers.

"Guys," Diggle interrupts suddenly. "What did I say about couple stuff down here? No kissy faces on the sacred ground. Take it to the rooftop."

Felicity sneaks in one more kiss and grins at Digg as he shakes his head before Oliver takes her hand again and lets her lead them up to the rooftop above the foundry. On their way out, he pauses to grab his coat, though she doesn't know why because it's too warm for extra layers.

* * *

Fairy lights surrounding the rooftop sparkle in the night and Felicity spins slowly in amazement, captivated by the pretty sight. "Wow," she breathes.

"Do you like it?"

"It's so pretty." She tears her gaze from the wonderful view, but her eyes find an even more beautiful sight, Oliver's standing there in the foreground against the backdrop of the city; the blinking lights playing in his hair and the lights don't even compare to the brightness his smile casts upon his face. "Who did this?"

"Me and Digg."

She giggles slightly at the image of her two tough manly-men standing on little ladders and hanging up delicate lights. "What's all this for?"

He shrugs. "Just because," he says in a casual tone, though she notes a hint of anxiousness hiding beneath it.

A breeze travels through, inspiring her locks to dance with it. A strand flicks at her cheek and she tucks it behind her ear the same time he tangles his hands in hair, pushing them behind her shoulders before framing her face. His eyes move slightly from left to right, as if trying to find something in her eyes. She smiles lightly in an attempt to ease him, but with his hold, her cheeks smoosh against his palms. She imagines she looks ridiculous - she doesn't care, though, because it ignites a grin from him.

"Kiss me," she murmurs.

His head gravitates to her too slowly, and she'd do something about it if he isn't literally holding her back. He pushes her cheeks together, puckering her lips, and he laughs softly, his breath hits her mouth. He tastes warm and familiar before his fervent lips confuse her senses.

Her skin tingles in the aftermath of where his thumbs caress her cheeks as he continues to kiss the bejeezus out of her. Her hands come up to hold his forearms, trying to get closer to him. His stubble scratching pleasantly along the softness of her skin. She makes an unhappy noise from the back of her throat when he starts to pull away. Blinking her eyes open, she pouts up at him. He brushes his lips across hers one more time before leading her to the edge of the roof.

His arms wrapped around her shoulders as he stands behind her, they watch the city from above. A car honk sounds somewhere in the distance and someone's turned on a light in an apartment building a few blocks away.

He's breathing a little faster than usual, and she tilts her head back to rest on his shoulder, looking up at him. The motion presses her back into him and she feels his hammering heartbeat on her shoulder blade. He's wearing a solemn expression as he stares meaningfully out at Starling City. "Oliver?"

"Remember when you asked, years ago, if I had any happy stories?"

She nods. Then shakes her head, because she honestly can't.

"I didn't," he continues on nevertheless. "Not ones that I was proud of anyway. But after we met, all my happy stories involved you."

Her heart flutters a little. She turns around to look at him properly and he takes a step back.

"In fact, _you_ are my happy story." His chest rises with every breath he takes.

She smiles, her heart singing. She's about to reach for him when he gets down on one knee, and her breath gets caught in her throat.

"Felicity…"

"Yes," she says immediately.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a crooked smile and the dimple that carves a place on his cheek lets her know it's his genuine I'm-so-happy-right-now smile. "I love you."

"Yes." She shakes her head. "I mean, I love you too."

He chuckles silently before his expression sobers and he looks at her earnestly, reaching for her hand. She latches on to his fingers tightly, pretty sure her heart is in overdrive. He places a kiss to the back of her palm before a timid smile skips onto his face. "Marry me."

"_Yes_," she breathes, her hands racing to catch her heart as it almost breaks through her ribcage in its excitement.

Oliver pulls out a motherboard from the pocket of the coat draped over the chair next to them, and she laughs. He holds it up like an offering and she takes it, smiling softly at him. He rises, his hands sliding up her arms and his lips are pushed against hers before he's even completely standing.

Her arms wrap around his neck, pushing her body along his. She laughs slightly as he lifts her off her feet, spinning her around in his arms. When he puts her down, she feels him smile against her mouth. Pecking him one more time, she pulls back to look more closely at her engagement motherboard.

"It's beautiful," she gushes.

"It supports 128GB of RAM."

"Oh, you spoil me," she grins, giddy.

His lips fall onto her forehead and she closes her eyes in bliss. "Only the best for my Girl Wednesday."

Catching the inside joke, she snickers, tapping his chest as she corrects him. "Girl Friday."

His hand cups the back of her head and he pecks her mouth so sweetly it melts her insides. "My Girl Every Day," he murmurs.

She opens her eyes and lovingly caresses his cheek, watching him twist his head to kiss her palm before burrowing his cheek into her touch.

"I love you, Felicity."

She bites her lip to contain her smile, but as she watches his eyes light up, his own smile growing, she decides she doesn't want to repress it and beams up at him. Bouncing on her toes, she throws her arms around him before nuzzling her face into the side of his neck as his arms hold her against him. "I love you too, Oliver."

* * *

**Prompt: _something to do with a mirror and a necklace_**  
**Prompted by: _emilyhotchner-and-olicityfan_**


	10. paparazzi

**Thanks so much for everyone's kind response to this collection, whether by reviewing, alerting, favouriting, or even reading silently (I see all). The 100th review was made by Andy on the last chapter. It's silly and you probably think I'm weird, but this milestone is so exciting for me because 100 is a lot and I still can't believe that so many of you are enjoying this. Thank you all again. Here's a(nother) longer one to show my appreciation :)**

_paparazzi_

"Felicity! Is it true that you're pregnant?"

"How are you today?"

"Where's Oliver, Miss. Smoak?"

"Did you have your morning coffee?"

"She's pregnant, you idiot."

"Are you engaged?"

"Did you break-up?"

"Look over here, Felicity!"

Felicity snorts. Yes. Oliver impregnated her, proposed and then proceeded to break up with her. _Honestly, the things people come up with._

When she first started dating Oliver, this isn't exactly what she had thought it would be like. Being watched and judged every time she goes out. She doesn't like it. Sure, at first, she had imagined herself at the grocery store in comfortable sweats and then getting a frenzy of Google Alerts the next morning with articles including a picture of herself holding a carton of milk. The comments would range from her apparent lack of sense of fashion when out to the nearest convenience store (with a dash of how beautiful she looks and how lucky she is) to how they _can't believe she's buying_ milk _and why isn't it at least soy or skim or ninety-nine point eight-three-six-two percent water?_

But it's nothing like that.

_It's worse_. People are speculating if Oliver's actually happy with a nobody like her, or when he's pictured with an actress they talk about how he's seeing her behind her back and Felicity's too dumb to notice, and she found one creep who wondered how _big_ Oliver was and if he's actually good in bed. After that, she pretty much stays away from gossip sites and removed her name for Google Alerts.

It gets extra bananas when she's out with Oliver. The cameras are doubled and she's blinded by spots of black for days, and it's thrice as loud with people yelling things at them. But most of the time, Digg's with them, plus an extra bodyguard during events, so she feels safe enough that no one will attack her.

She can admit, though, that it's not that bad sometimes. Once a paparazzo helped her when her skirt got stuck in the doorway of a store and she had been holding too many bags. She's found a group of people who are apparently her fanbase. They send her things like nice and supportive messages, they interview her and ask for her to address any rumours about her and/or her and Oliver, some ask for autographs and a picture, and they send gifts on her birthday, like she's some kind of celebrity. People are weird.

"What will you be wearing tonight?"

There's a huge event Felicity's been invited to tonight. That's right; _Felicity_ is invited to an event, not Oliver. She had laughed about it for days after she received the invitation in the mail. It's a fashion show showcasing Starling City's finest designers held at the _Chateau_ downtown and she has front row seats to watch models walk down the runway wearing a beautiful dress Fashionista Stefano tailored and personally asked her to wear. It's not really her kind of scene, but it's still exciting to be invited - by name - to grand events like this.

And the press is all over her today.

"Is Oliver gonna be your date?"

"Where are you going right now?"

"Smile!"

"You're glowing this morning, Felicity!"

"Is it true that you're bringing Bradley Cooper as your date?"

Groaning quietly to herself, Felicity picks up the pace. _She should have driven there. Why did she have to think that it's a beautiful enough day to take a nice stroll? Did she learn nothing after being with Oliver Queen for two and a half years - scratch that - since knowing Oliver for seven years?_

"Be careful, Felicity!"

Breaking out into a run, she turns abruptly at the corner of the street and flies into a random store, crouching down behind some mannequins. She hears them rushing by, yelling about how _she shouldn't be running when she's pregnant_ and how _they probably shouldn't be trying to chase her down _and_ where the hell did she go?_

After she's sure they're gone and realises the people in the store are looking at her funny, she apologises, slips out and continues on her way to the restaurant at which she had agreed to meet Oliver for brunch.

"Hey." Accepting the kiss Oliver places on her cheek, she takes the seat he pulls out for her. She apologises for being late. "Have you been waiting here long?"

"No, it's fine. I got here early."

She regards him carefully, squinting. "No, you didn't."

"Okay, so I got here half an hour before the time we agreed."

She gives him a sympathetic look. "What did Ashton do this time?" Ashton is Oliver's twenty-two year old cousin who was hired as his PA at QC as a favour to Moira's sister.

He groans and slumps forward in his seat. "He called Isabel _Satan's Spawn_."

Shrugging, she takes a sip of the orange juice he had ordered for her. "You do that all the time."

"To her face," he adds pointedly.

"Oh," she winces.

"Yeah."

The waiter appears and they order before settling into comfortable conversation.

"So why were you late?"

"The paparazzi are crazier than usual today."

He stops munching on his breadstick (just as well because he'll fill up on it, be too full to finish his brunch and complain an hour later about how hungry he is). "What happened?" His brows crease in worry.

"Nothing. They just chased me down the street until I ducked in a boutique and lost them. You know, I think I'm getting better at the stealth thing."

"Did they touch you? Because some of those guys are low-lives and I hate the thought that they would hurt you for a picture."

"They didn't touch me. Oh!"

He jolts in his seat. "What?"

"Did you hear? We're pregnant."

He laughs, but then his eyes widen and he sits forward in his seat. "Wait."

"_Rumour_," she emphasises, patting his hand in comfort and shaking her head.

"Who's the father?"

"Most likely you."

"_Most likely_?"

"Yeah. I've been seeing Bradley Cooper behind your back." She grins at him, wiggling her eyebrows.

"That's not funny," he pouts.

* * *

"They found you," Oliver grumbles after brunch, staring out the window.

"They found _you_," Felicity fires back, pointing accusingly at the group of over thirty-year-old men surrounding his Mercedes Benz parked out front.

Oliver takes her hand and leads her to the back of the restaurant where they consult the manager and she lets them slip out through the kitchen door in the back.

"I'll see you after work," she says, giving him a quick kiss. She begins to walk away, but Oliver hauls her back by her arm. "Oliver," she laughs. "It smells really bad here."

"You don't have to breathe for this," he murmurs before dragging her in for a proper kiss.

Her hand snakes under his arm to grasp onto his shoulder from the back, and it helps her push herself up and against him tighter for their lips to mesh deeper.

He's playfully nipping her bottom lip when annoying clicks tick at her ears and she pulls away with a frown. Peeking over his shoulder, she spies the same group of men blocking the alleyway leading to the front of the building.

"Fuck," Oliver mutters. "C'mon." He pushes her behind him and then reaches for her hand, and they step up to the men who are now yelling at them.

"Oliver! Look over here!"

"Is it true that Queen Consolidated will be releasing a new weapon next month?"

"Oliver, did you cheat on Felicity?"

"People said they saw you with a model last night."

"Oliver! Oliver!"

As they brush by the cameras, someone grabs Felicity's arm and she gasps in surprise. She doesn't have time to trace the owner of the hand before Oliver turns around and wrenches the hand off her.

"Hey. Hey," he snarls, shoving a man in a baseball cap and fishing vest away. "Don't you _dare_ touch her."

Her heart hammers in her chest as she watches his body go rigid. She knows how much he hates them and she's confident that he will throw a punch if provoked. "Oliver," she chokes out amidst the frenzy of clicking, claustrophobia starting to creep through her system.

He turns away from the pap and she glimpses his hard expression; stormy eyes and a slight curl of his lip, before his eyes find hers and his face melts into a gentle expression; soft eyes and a worried line ironed out on his mouth. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she answers on a breath, clutching to the hand that reaches for her.

"Bunch of scum," he mutters, bringing her closer to him to pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head before he throws his free arm out and the group of men part quickly even as they continue to snap away.

* * *

"_FELICITY_!"

Jumping, Felicity turns toward the direction of the voice and waves blindly to the crowd of people fenced off from the red carpet, and the crowd grows rowdier.

"_I LOVE YOU_!"

Oliver chuckles from beside her while Diggle grins slightly from her other side. After the incident today, Oliver immediately called Digg and had him shadow her all day. When she had protested, Oliver had threatened to ditch work and follow her around himself, and she reluctantly acquiesced. At least Digg lets her go to the bathroom without standing watch in front of the door.

"Let's go before she jumps you," Diggle rumbles quietly, nudging her forward with the hand on her back.

Oliver's publicist, Scarlet Bowmen, waves at them from the end of the carpet.

"Hi Scarlet," Felicity greets. "How-"

"Be charming," she rushes out before ushering Felicity to where people with microphones and cameramen are lined up.

A women from Starling City's fashion magazine, _Luxe_, excitedly pulls her in for an interview.

"Felicity Smoak - girl, you look more fabulous than usual tonight!"

"Thanks!" Felicity plays with the ends of her flutter skirt, giggling when the reporter motions for her to do a little spin. As she twirls, her skirt flows through the air, looking almost magical as the modest amount of glitter in the blue fabric sparkles in the light.

"Beautiful. So are you excited to see some of the new fashion styles in there?"

"Oh, totally! Starling City has some of the most amazing designers, I can't wait."

"I hear the security software you developed is doing very well."

"It is, it is."

"So tell me, you and Oliver Queen," the reporter winks.

* * *

The reporter from _Entertainment Tonight_ pulls her in, talking loudly over the noise, "Hi! Felicity Smoak, you look gorgeous!"

"Thank you," she grins.

"Who are you wearing?"

"Stefano. He's amazing. I was so flattered when he asked me to wear one of his designs tonight."

"Oh, he's great. He's one of the designers I'm looking forward to at the show. Who's your date tonight? Oliver Queen, right? He's right behind you. Hi Oliver!"

Felicity looks back at him, standing patiently off to the side with his charming public expression. She discretely pulls a face at him and he smiles, winking at her.

"Rumour has it that Oliver got you a Maserati last week, just for kicks. Is this true?"

* * *

A woman introduces herself as Maria, interviewing on behalf of Ellen DeGeneres. "Ms. Smoak, looking amazing as usual."

"Oh, you don't look so bad yourself!"

"Ah, thank you. This is so exciting, isn't it?"

"Totally! I've pinched myself three times already, I still can't believe it."

Maria laughs. "You're too cute. But you belong here! You always dress so stylishly."

"Thank you."

"Ellen has a gift for you."

"Really?"

Maria pulls out a laptop case with Ellen's face on it.

Laughing, Felicity accepts it. "I love it. I'm gonna use it for my laptop and bring this to work every day."

"Fantastic. Speaking of," Maria begins mischievously, "how are you and Oliver going to spend the holidays?"

* * *

There's a loud screech when Oliver touches her arm to get her attention and then more people start screaming and pushing to the front of those gates surrounding the red carpet.

She's starting to get concerned people will get trampled and squished to death, or at the very least break bones. Looking around helplessly, she holds her arm out to the crowd of people in an attempt to appease them, and people start reaching for her, holding onto her.

"Hey guys. Be careful, you'll hurt someone - or worse; yourselves." She twists her head, looking for someone. Oliver's standing by, watching her. "Oliver," she worries.

He smiles and flashes heat up her vision as people start screaming again. "They'll be fine," he says, reaching out for her. She takes his hand and his head tilts to the carpet where photographers are yelling at people on the carpet to look this way and that.

"_Olicity_!" someone yells.

Oliver frowns. "What?"

She laughs self-deprecatingly. "Olicity. That's us." She nudges him playfully. "Don't you know our own ship name?" She tugs him along even as his brows furrow further.

"What's a ship?"

She sighs in mock disappointment. "Oh, Oliver."

* * *

"I'll give you fifty bucks if you pull a funny face right now," she murmurs from the corner of her mouth as photographers continue to yell at them to _look this way_! _give us a smile_! _now look this way_!

"You pull one with me and we have a deal."

She laughs, tilting her head back a little to look up at him to see if he's serious. He's grinning widely, wiggling his eyebrows subtly.

The lights and clicks increase, and she's pretty sure she's blind now.

It doesn't matter though, because she can feel Oliver kiss the side of her head, and her stomach flutters. He's never shown this much affection in front of the public eye before; the photographers' reactions prove that as they start screaming at Oliver to kiss her again.

"That can go on the holidays cards we'll be sending out," she jokes.

"You look beautiful tonight. Have I mentioned that yet?"

"Only fifty times on the way here," she blushes. "But thank you." She flashes him a humble smile.

* * *

Inside, someone shows them to their seats, the first row near the end of the runway.

"Is that Jennifer Lopez?" Felicity gasps, pointing excitedly to the front row.

"I don't know," Oliver says slowly, squinting. "There's Bradley Cooper."

"Ha ha _har_," she drolls dryly.

"He's right there."

"Where?" She moves herself behind his finger and spots the actor sitting on the other side of the runway. "Oh. Maybe I should go talk to him."

As she starts to rise from her seat, Oliver grabs her arm and hauls her down and closer to him, and she laughs.

The show begins and Felicity _ooh_s and _aah_s some of the clothes that come out while Oliver spends half the time with his nose in her hair, making fun of some of the models' walks. The lady on Oliver's other side keeps _shush_ing them whenever they laugh a little too loudly. (How is their noise making interfering with her viewing of the models? What a party pooper.)

She's having a blast.

If all the other fashion events are like this one, then she can't wait for another invite.

* * *

**Prompt: ****_Felicity gets chased by paparazzi_**  
**Prompted by: ****_The Fearless Diva_****  
**

**Another note (sorry, I'm really chatty this chapter), I had an idea - thanks to quisinart4 - the other day where people on tumblr can post their headcanons for Olicity under the tag "_olicity headcanon_". It can be a good fandom thing where anyone can read ideas shared by others, and if you have a blog, you can elaborate on other's ideas, or even be inspired to do some fan work. There's nothing in the tag right now (except the one I posted to awhile ago to jumpstart it), but fingers crossed this will catch on.**

**Hope everyone had/is having a wonderful holiday, and have a happy new year!**


	11. labour

**How about kicking off the new year with a nice family fic? :)**

_labour_

"Oliver."

Oliver looks up from chopping the carrots Felicity wants with the new bottle of mustard (which she hasn't let out of her sight since the supermarket this morning). "Yeah?"

"My water just broke."

"What? _Shit_." He rushes into the living room, his heart pounding in his ears.

Felicity begins her struggle to stand up from the couch, and he rushes over to help her up. "Oh no! The couch-"

"Nevermind the couch! What are you waiting for? Let's go!"

"Oliver," she says, surprised.

_He doesn't know why the tone; they've been pregnant for nine months now and their due date was estimated to be some time this week_ (their baby is punctual - definitely from Baby Queen's mother's genes). _Where the_ hell_ are his keys?_

"Calm down." She grabs him by the arm as he passes by her, forgetting about the keys for now and looking for the bag they prepared for the hospital. "We have plenty of time."

"_Time_ is something we don't have, Felicity. _You're in labour_."

"Oliver, look at me."

His eyes dart around the room. _Where did they put it?_

"_Look at me_." Her hand grips the back of his neck and jerks his head down to her.

"Where's the bag?"

"In the car."

"Where are they keys?"

"Right here." She bends down slightly to grab the keys from the coffee table. "Calm. Down. Breathe," she murmurs quietly.

He breathes deeply with her even as his shoulders continue to tense. "We need to leave now. What if there's an accident that's blocking the road? What if-"

"He'll have your eyes and smile."

"What?"

"Baby Queen. He'll have your beautiful blue eyes and that charming smile. My brains, of course, and your hand-eye coordination."

"_She_ will look exactly like you, with soft beautiful hair, a gorgeous smile and the ability to kick any guy's ass." He pushes a kiss to the crown of her head as his fingers comb through her curls.

"Let's go have a baby," she grins.

_Oh god, he's gonna be a dad._

"Hey, let's stop for yoghurt!"

* * *

"_Oliver_."

"It's okay, Felicity," he says in a soothing tone, though he can't help it if a strain of torment seeps through. "Just take a deep breath."

"It hurts."

The nurses are bustling all around them in the labour room, but Oliver concentrates on his wife breathing erratically, throwing her head back and forth, and whimpering _in pain_.

"I know." Beside himself, he wipes away the bead of sweat rolling down her forehead before placing a kiss there. "Squeeze my hand and take a breath."

She grasps his offered hand and squeezes as another wave hits her and she shouts, the sound squeezing his heart more painfully than she is his hand.

He whips his head around to the midwife. "Is it too late for the drugs?"

"_Way_ too late for the drugs," the midwife says unhelpfully.

"I don't think I can do this," she wheezes.

The way she's looking at him; lips pulled down into a frown and eyes wide and pleading, it absolutely kills him that she is in agony and he can't do anything to take it all away and shield her from it. _He misses her smile_. He tries for a kiss to the hand still holding tightly onto his. "You can, Felicity. I know you can. You're remarkable, remember?"

"Can you do it for me?" She grips the back of his neck and pulls him closer, leaning his forehead against her sweaty one. "Just this once," she promises on a gasping breath.

"Believe me," he utters through clenched teeth, "if I could, I'd do it for you, but please." He kisses her quickly. "Just _breathe_ for me."

She finally utlises the breathing technique from their lamaze class before she whimpers out, throwing her head back. "It's- too much, Oliver."

"I know, I know."

"Okay," the midwife intones. "It's almost time to start pushing again."

Felicity's fearful eyes pop open and pins him in place so fast he can't breathe for a moment. He's still reeling at the thought of being a father, but he can't deal with his own issues right now because his wife needs him to be strong for her; brave for her, like all those times she's been strong and brave and wonderful for him.

"You can do this." He kisses her hand again. "I know you can. And I'm right here, okay?"

She nods jerkily and pulls him closer. "You're going to be a dad. An amazing dad."

He smiles shakily. "You'll be an extraordinary mother."

"I love you," she whispers, caressing the back of his neck.

"I love you too."

* * *

Oliver stares down at his new beautiful baby boy seven hours later, utterly transfixed with every yawn, every breath and every move. _He's so tiny_.

The baby squirms lightly in his hands, the blue blanket falling open from the movement, and makes a tiny sound that shoots straight to Oliver's heart. He just loves him so much already. He can't imagine anything better than this perfect little boy right here.

He doesn't know why he was worrying so much these past few months; being a father is easy enough so far, and he has Felicity - a wonderful person and an even better mother - right next to him when he needs someone to lean on. At the end of the day, he'd do anything to make his family happy and everything to keep them safe. He'll move mountains to prevent this little person from experiencing the evils he had.

Felicity begins to stir from her well deserved nap, and Oliver's smile begins to grow as he moves with the utmost care from his seat to the bed, never letting the baby out of his sight until he's settled next to Felicity.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Hey." Her eyes slowly blink open and a faint smile appears across her face as her eyes land on them.

"How're you feeling?"

"A little sore."

"Want to hold him?"

"I do."

She begins to sit up and he uses one hand to help her while the other holds firmly onto his son. _His son_. He still can't believe it. But after everything that's happened in his past, it's worth it because he's sitting here today with his beautiful wife and the perfect son.

"Hi precious," she coos quietly.

Oliver can do nothing to stop the smile from stretching almost achingly across his face, nor does he want to anyway. The two most important people in his life is in this room right now, and he can't be any happier than at this moment. It's impossible.

"I promise to always love you," she murmurs, kissing his tiny forehead. He watches her smile when he opens his tiny eyes and yawns as big as his tiny mouth can open. "Even when you're sixteen and embarrassed by us meeting your first girlfriend."

"Or boyfriend," he adds. (Sixteen's a little old for a boy to have his first relationship, but that's another discussion for another time.)

"Or boyfriend," she agrees.

He slides in next to Felicity and grazes a finger across his tiny ear, his heart swelling as he blinks up at them slowly. "We'll love you no matter what."

She starts sniffling and Oliver frowns in concern.

"Felicity?"

"I don't know," she says in a watery voice. "I just… I'm crying?"

He chuckles lightly, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her until her head is resting on his shoulder. "It's the hormones."

"I'm so tired."

"Go back to sleep."

"In a little while."

They watch him drift in and out of sleep when there's a soft knock on the door and Digg pops his head in. "Hey, sorry to interrupt. Your family and Roy are here."

Oliver nods for him to let them in. Thea's the first one, rushing through the door, followed quickly by his mother and Roy, Digg bringing up the rear and closing the door behind him.

As Digg takes a seat on the couch along the back wall, Thea races to Felicity's side. "Hi, oh my gosh. Is that him?" Thea flails silently.

"No. It's a loaner," Roy rolls his eyes, frowning when Thea elbows him.

His mother draws closer and Oliver looks up at her as she takes in her first grandson. "He's beautiful," she smiles, bringing a hand to her mouth.

He takes her other hand and squeezes. She squeezes back.

"He's so tiny I want to squish his head," Thea gushes quietly.

"Thea," his mother laughs under her breath.

"I won't," she defends.

"What's his name?" Roy queries.

Felicity finally lifts her head and gives the room a gorgeous tearful smile. "Joshua Robert Queen."

"Why Joshua?" Roy asks, pulling a sour face.

"Because that's the thing to focus on," Thea shoots back.

"Moira?" Felicity says quietly, and Oliver turns his attention back to his mother, who's smiling through her tears.

"It's perfect." She kisses Oliver's hand, gripping it tighter. "He would have been so proud of you."

Everyone hushes instantly when baby Joshua stretches and makes a noise closely resembling a coo.

"He looks just like Felicity," Thea comments, smitten.

Oliver smiles. "I know."

"Moira, would you like to hold him?" Felicity offers.

"Oh, yes please."

Oliver helps transport him from one pair of arms to another before settling down tighter against Felicity's side, her head falling to rest against his shoulder as her arm slides across to his other side, squeezing him in a hug. She must be exhausted. He rubs her arm with the pad of his thumb, and she kisses his collarbone. He relaxes his cheek on top of hers, closing his eyes.

"Okay, seriously, why Joshua," Roy repeats.

As Thea and Roy argue quietly and his mother and Digg become enamoured with Joshua, Oliver feels Felicity shifting her head and placing a kiss to his chin. Looking down at her, he smiles as he swipes stray hairs away from her face and leans his forehead against her temple.

"Are you happy?" she questions, playing with the side of his shirt as she blinks sleepily up at him, not unlike the way Joshua did earlier.

"The happiest."

"Good." He can hear the smile in her voice.

Scratch his earlier statement. He can't be any happier than at this moment because everyone he cares about in his life is right here.

* * *

**Prompt: ****_Felicity in labour and in pain and Oliver trying his best to help her get through it. People often write it like a funny thing, but I only see it like a tender moment for our favorite couple_**

**Prompted by: ****_CanadianHeartGirl_**** (at a03)**

**For anyone wondering, Joshua means 'salvation'.**


End file.
